


Inkstick

by t34lbloods (perculious)



Series: A6A4 [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Needles, Tattoos, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-16
Updated: 2012-11-16
Packaged: 2017-11-18 19:14:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/564344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perculious/pseuds/t34lbloods
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>GT: Wait slow down dirk.<br/>GT: This is all hypothetical right?<br/>GT: I mean youre not actually going to tattoo me.<br/>TT: Of course not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inkstick

**Author's Note:**

> I did a bunch of hasty google research on how to make stick'n'pokes safe, and then ignored a lot of it because they're in the middle of the wilderness. If you are some kind of stick'n'poke connoisseur, I apologize for that. Thanks for sfingella for looking this over for me! And my Homestuck tumblr is t34lbloods if any of y'all want to hit me up there.

TT: Did you get the picture I sent you?  
GT: Whats this now?  
TT: Check your e-mail.  
GT: ...  
GT: Dirk what is this?  
TT: It’s my new ink.  
GT: Do you mean to tell me that this is a recent and accurate picture of the arm of my best bro dirk strider?  
TT: I did it today, so yeah.  
GT: What do you mean you did it? Are you telling me that you drew this on your own arm?  
TT: Drew it and then stuck an inked needle in it. Thereby creating the miracle known as a tattoo.  
GT: Jeepers dirk!  
TT: What do you think?  
GT: Well for starters im impressed! That is a spiffing image of your bros best work it looks expertly done!  
TT: It’s not hard to draw Hella Jeff. That’s kind of the point of the franchise.  
GT: What did he say?  
TT: Who?  
GT: Your bro of course! The very creator of the visage adorning your very manly i might add arm!!  
TT: Oh.  
TT: I guess I haven’t told him.  
GT: He certainly will have a surprise waiting for him! I can hardly believe it myself!  
GT: Its really permanent?  
TT: I imagine at some point after I die when my skin starts to rot it’ll fade.  
TT: But until then, yes.  
GT: Well despite that macabre aside i am still impressed.  
GT: Didnt it hurt?  
TT: Sort of.  
TT: I didn’t really mind.  
GT: My goodness dirk it will never cease to amaze me the things you can take in stride.  
GT: I suppose its to be expected. You are after all a strider!  
GT: *Winks meaningfully*  
TT: Good thing you winked. Otherwise that would have flown right over my head.  
GT: Ok i know youre being sarcastic as usual but i dont care.  
GT: This is incredible. How did you learn how to tattoo?  
TT: I didn’t learn anything. I just figured it out. It’s not hard.  
GT: You always say that about things that are veri fucking fiably difficult!!  
GT: I dont believe your unflappable facade. I think it must have taken some work to learn how to build robots and tattoo yourself and you just want me to think youre some mr do everything cool guy.  
TT: If that’s what you want to think.  
GT: Im onto you strider.  
TT: Look, it’s really not hard. You’re free to make up whatever fantasies about me and robots you want, but it’s just objectively not difficult to do a tattoo. You just dip a needle in ink and stick it in.   
TT: Just sticking it in isn’t hard, Jake.  
GT: Then how come everyone doesnt do it??  
TT: I don’t know. Obviously I thought it was a pretty great idea.  
GT: But jiminy christmas people pay lots of money for good tattoos! You could do it as a job!  
TT: I highly doubt anyone would pay money to put Hella Jeff on their body permanently.  
TT: Except my bro, maybe.  
TT: But probably not. That would be kind of lame.  
TT: Since he’s already famous for SBAHJ. It would make him look a little douchey.  
TT: For me it’s just cool.  
GT: Im serious though. Have you ever done it for anyone else?  
TT: Nah. This is the first one I’ve done.  
GT: You should! Maybe not hella jeff although you know my admiration of your bros work remains glowing as ever.  
GT: What else can you draw?  
TT: Whatever you want.  
GT: *coughs in surprise*  
GT: Not for me dirk!  
TT: Is coughing really a thing people do when they’re surprised?  
GT: You should get a friend of yours to let you try it out. Just to practice your skills.  
GT: Im serious this could be a lucrative career path.  
GT: Although i suppose youll end up rich and famous yourself one day from your robots!  
GT: What am i saying you and roxy are the most talented people i know. You could do anything.  
TT: Why not you?  
TT: I don’t have any better friends.  
GT: *Goes red!!*  
GT: Dirk that means a lot to me but i dont know.  
GT: I mean the obvious obstacle is this blasted large ocean between us.  
GT: Unless you can sendinistrate a tattoo onto me!  
TT: Sendificate. I don’t think that technology exists, no.  
TT: I suppose I could program a robot to do it. But that would be a lot of effort for a robot with a pretty small range of usefulness.  
TT: Unless you can think of any other use for a robot that looks like me and has very dexterous fingers that I can program to move in specific ways.  
GT: I wouldnt want to put you to all that trouble just for my sake.  
GT: What am I saying. I dont even want a tattoo!  
GT: I mean what would I even get?  
TT: That’s up to you. It’s a very personal decision.  
TT: You’re right, though. It would probably be better in person.  
TT: I wouldn’t want anything to go wrong.  
GT: Im sure any robot you made would do the job just smashingly!  
TT: Yeah but there are some things it’s just better to do in person.  
TT: Just out of curiosity, what would you want me to draw?  
TT: If I were there.  
TT: Which will probably never happen due to the aforementioned blasted ocean.  
TT: Shit’s like the fuckin’ black belt master of keeping us apart.  
TT: Trained for years in a secret mountain dojo in the art of keeping adolescent boys away from each other.  
TT: If our fingertips ever touch it has to turn in its belt and commit ritual suicide.  
GT: Gee whillikers dirk i dont even know.  
GT: Ive never thought about it.  
GT: Probably something from some movie. But which one??  
GT: There are simply too many options to choose from!  
TT: What’s your favorite?  
GT: You cant just ask a man a question like that!  
GT: Ill be here deliberating for days!!  
TT: Ok, ok. Don’t break anything.  
TT: You like my bro’s movies, right?  
GT: What did i just tell you. Of course i do!  
GT: Ill admit i don’t always quite understand whats going on but thats not the point of a movie now is it.  
GT: Theyre plenty enjoyable!  
GT: Even riveting!  
TT: Well, I have the most practice drawing that shit. For obvious reasons.  
TT: I could do Hella Jeff for you.  
GT: I wouldnt want the exact same tattoo as you dirk. An adventurer like myself has to show his rugged individuality you know.  
GT: Hmm.  
GT: Well blast it why not have sweet bro? After all the movies are a depiction of a particularly strong broship.  
GT: Much like the one a certain rugged adventurer shares with a certain mysterious robot builder who has recently revealed a talent for ink based art!  
TT: Wow, that’s pretty much the lamest way you could possibly have phrased that.  
TT: But yeah, I could do that for you.  
TT: Easily.  
GT: Wait slow down dirk.   
GT: This is all hypothetical right?  
GT: I mean youre not actually going to tattoo me.  
TT: Of course not. As we’ve already discussed, that would be impractical.  
TT: I was just curious.  
TT: If we do ever meet up though, I’d be happy to. Just let me know.  
GT: Thats very kind of you!  
GT: Well of course it is youre always obliging.  
TT: Just what bros do.  
GT: Speaking of tattoos have you ever seen the movie memento?  
GT: I just saw it yesterday and wow what a doozy!  
GT: I just had an idea! You could tattoo me with something i might otherwise forget.  
GT: Like a treasure map or my wifes birthday or something really important like that.  
GT: Or maybe all four of our pesterchum handles! Then if i woke up with no memory i could contact you and jane and roxy. Otherwise id be sunk.  
TT: Yeah. Let’s just stick to Sweet Bro.  
TT: But good ideas Jake.

-

Dirk always assumed that the first time he saw Jake, Jake would envelop him in a big bear hug and that would be that. Unfortunately, the first time Dirk saw Jake, Jake was shifting awkwardly from side to side, his mouth open and his face red, still holding Dirk’s severed head.

Dirk gave him a thumbs up. It didn’t seem to help. 

Jake opened and closed his mouth soundlessly, staring at Dirk, blood from the neck stump dripping all down his arm and pooling in the crook of his elbow before dribbling off onto the dark ground of Jake’s land. Some rivulets were already starting to dry, rust-colored and fantastically gory on Jake’s skin. He was holding the head by its hair, fingers curled almost protectively into it, like he didn’t know what to do other than hold on tight.

He was fucking gorgeous. 

Every cell in Dirk’s body was burning up. He could feel every part of him slowly recalibrating around Jake like a sunflower swiveling around to face the sun. His stomach was crumpled up like a piece of paper, and his forehead prickled with cool sweat, and not just from the mad dash across worlds he’d just executed. He had never been happier for his bro’s foresight in leaving him his shades. Maybe his bro knew, via whatever occult power had been going on back then, that he would need a fucking sick pair of shades like this to keep from embarrassing himself utterly when some crazy adventure kid holding Dirk’s own skull redefined his world. Jake was real and whole and human in front of him and Dirk literally couldn’t live if Jake turned him down.

The silence was broken by Jane, who yelped “Jake! Oh my god! Put that thing down!” Her voice was pitched a little too high to sound natural, and it broke Dirk out of the moment. He inhaled slowly, refusing to acknowledge that his breath was shaking a little. Adrenaline, it was adrenaline, he’d just saved all of their fucking lives. Calm down, dude, he told himself, it’s just Jake. In two seconds he’s going to say something unbelievably stupid and you’ll be able to relax. He ignored AR in his shades, telling him how _very fuckin’ cool you’re being right now, I think he’s impressed._

Roxy was laughing, maybe a touch hysterically. “Ell oh ell, Janey,” she said, “like that is anyone’s main concern right now.”

Jake’s face broke into a grin like he‘d just noticed that they were there. “Oh criminy,” he said, “I don’t know what to do with it!”

The Jake stupid comment alarm went off like a bad cheese right on time, but it didn’t help. It didn’t fucking help. 

-

They’d fallen into pairs naturally, Roxy grabbing Jane’s arm and squealing “BFFSIES ADVENTURES!” before Dirk even finished suggesting they split up. It was more than okay by Dirk to be stuck on LOMAX with Jake, except that Jake seemed to think that Dirk’s early tenseness was caused by some kind of aversion to touch or something. He went out of his way to keep a respectful distance from Dirk at all times, gesturing to allow him through passageways first and courteously side-stepping away if Dirk stumbled on a loose stone. Dirk liked to think he was above intentionally tripping to force their skin together, but he was getting more and more desperate.

They had been together for a month and Jake still hadn’t touched him. Not once. Not even a manly clap on the back. Not even a tender brush of the fingers as they both reached for the same grist pile. Nothing.

Roxy had been all over Dirk the second the drama of their arrival had settled down, of course, and Jane had given him a few brief but significant hugs, even though he sensed she was a little put out by seeing the man of her dreams make out with Dirk’s dead face right in front of her. But now it was like being back in his apartment again, his eyes bleary from staring at the screen for so long wishing Jake would crawl out of the text and just fucking kiss him already.

Except it was worse, because back then he just had photos of Jake. And Jake had always taken the dumbest fucking photos Dirk could imagine, like, himself excitedly holding up some huge white monster head that was covering half his face. Or one where Jake had caught himself just as he was about to sneeze, and sent it to everyone because he thought it was the absolute height of comedy. And Dirk couldn’t very well say “Maybe try one where you’re shirtless and rubbing yourself down with oil, just for a laugh,” not when Jake’s enthusiastic incompetence did nothing but increase the constant throbbing ache in his chest whenever Dirk thought about him.

Now he had the real Jake, right in front of him. Now he could see the way Jake’s face lit up in delight when Dirk said something Jake thought was clever, and see how seriously fucking earnest he was when he told Dirk that their bro-ship was the bro-ship to beat all bro-ships and he knew that the Batterwitch would crumble and fall in the face of such unbeatable camaraderie. Dirk rolled his eyes at it, but behind his shades AR would mock him for how very fucking unironic it was the way it made Dirk want to hold Jake against him as tightly as possible and never let anyone else touch him, ever. It scared him how protective he felt, how it took at least two weeks before he could quell the rage that choked him when the skeletal monsters of LOMAX snapped at Jake, rage that made him want to keep slicing them apart long after they were dead. Even if it was Jake who killed them, which it often was.

They always slept close by. Jake had insisted on it, all full of tender bro concern that some monster was going to sneak up on them in their sleep and they needed to be ready to spring to their feet at a moment’s notice and pose back-to-back with Jake’s pistols and Dirk’s sword silhouetted in black against a burning sky. Which was real fucking great and all, except it meant that Dirk spent the entire day staring at Jake’s bare skin and the entire night trying to fight the urge to jerk off until he was absolutely positive Jake was asleep. He’d never before been in a situation where he couldn’t just drop his pants and go at it, wherever he was, and being around Jake’s fucking ridiculous spandex microshorts was driving him out of his mind. AR was really not helping, saying things like _Can’t keep your eyes off the butt, huh_ , until Dirk was ready to smash his shades against a rock, push Jake against the nearest mound, and just kiss him until he could breathe right again.

And then one day they were making short work of one of the skeletons, and its thrashing caught Jake by surprise and swept him over the side of one of the canyons, his surprised yell echoing in the air.

Dirk froze, every muscle seizing up in horror. And then he dove after Jake without even thinking, springing over the edge without sparing a single second to process the implications. It took him a second to even remember his rocket board, for it to even register that he could save Jake without much trouble. He’d been ready to just wing it. He decaptchalogued that shit and kicked it up.

He hit the xenon before he reached Jake. He could tell from the way his lungs were suddenly struggling, his chest rising and falling shallowly as he gasped for air. If it was hard for him to breathe, then it was harder for Jake, so he kicked some thrust into the rocket board and sped downward, his eyes locked on target.

It felt like he was moving in slow motion, like he was trying to swim to Jake through chocolate pudding. It was the lack of air, he knew, making it feel like time was slowing down, like the figure that was Jake wasn’t getting any closer.

By the time he reached Jake he was dizzy with lack of oxygen, his chest spasming uncontrollably as he gulped down the xenon, his lungs trying desperately to process any hint of oxygen they could find. He grabbed Jake’s wrist and jerked him upwards with as much force as he could master, kicking up his board as high as it could go. He didn’t have the time or strength to evaluate the level of Jake’s exposure to the xenon; he barely spared a second to make sure Jake was conscious.

Rising up into oxygenated air was like being doused in a pool of cold water. Dirk sucked the air greedily into his lungs, coughing a little as his throat tripped over his body’s eagerness to breathe. He could hear Jake murmuring something behind him, but there was no time to worry about it. He burst out of the canyon with his sword in one hand, Jake in the other, and slashed a long vertical stroke through the underling’s body. Its bones scattered on the ground in a series of little _thuds_.

Dirk deposited Jake none too gently on the ground before alighting himself and captchaloguing the board. He doubled over, resting his hands on his knees and just taking a moment to breathe.

When he finally looked up, Jake was still sitting unceremoniously on the ground, his eyes wide as he looked at Dirk. His thumb and middle finger of one hand were circled around his wrist, right where Dirk had gripped him.

Oh.

Dirk straightened up, but internally he was reeling. He’d had his hand on Jake’s skin and he hadn’t even realized it. Molecules that composed his body pressed against molecules that composed Jake’s and Jesus Christ this crush was making him think some stupid bullshit. He flexed his hand, bringing his fingers into his palm and spreading them out again, trying to feel a hint of Jake’s body heat still on him, but he was pretty sure anything he felt was just his imagination. God, he could have just held on, he could have leveraged it into a “thank God we’re alive” hug, anything. Instead Jake was staring at him with a look that, for the first time, he couldn’t read at all. 

“Thanks,” Jake said finally, getting to his feet, a little unsteadily. Dirk lurched forward to catch his elbow, drunk with the possibility of touching him again, but Jake laughed and stepped out of the way. “I’m fine.”

_Well, I’m fucking not_ , Dirk wanted to say, but instead he just nodded. “Okay,” he said. “We’re both good. Let’s keep going.”

In response, Jake drew his pistols. “Let’s do this.”

-

Jake had had the foresight to captchalogue a bunch of blankets back at his house, and he was arranging them now, setting up two sleeping areas just close enough that Dirk knew he would lie awake all night trying to will himself to feel Jake’s body heat radiating across the few inches between them. Fuck that shit.

“Hey, Jake,” he called out. He was sitting cross-legged on the mossy ground, leaning back on his hands.

Jake turned, and Dirk very carefully didn’t care about anything related to his idiotic face. “What’s up, bro?”

“When are we going to do your tattoo?”

Jake looked comically surprised, his mouth falling open. “What?”

“You know.” Dirk tapped his own tat on his shoulder. “To match this motherfucking miracle. Sweet Bro. Remember?”

Jake let out a short burst of laughter. “Cripes, my man, you weren’t actually serious about that, were you? That was years ago!”

Dirk shrugged. He knew Jake couldn’t see shit behind his shades in the dim light. “It was your idea, bro,” he said. “I just thought you wanted to get this friendship train on the track already. It’s been a month.”

“Well.” Jake crawled over to Dirk on his hands and knees, and then sat back on his heels. “I must say that at the time we talked about it I never expected it to come to fruition!”

“Oh, so you’re backing out.”

“I didn’t say that,” Jake said. He was close to Dirk now, close enough to make Dirk’s skin prickle with how badly he wanted to touch. “Sweet Bro, huh?”

“That’s what you said you wanted.”

“Hypothetically.” Jake’s eyes flicked down to Dirk’s own tattoo. For a second Dirk had a wild fantasy that maybe Jake was spending his days like this too, devouring Dirk’s skin with his eyes, but then he raised his gaze back to Dirk’s. “I know it’s been years but I’m still impressed that you did it to yourself. I mean, that must have taken some fortitude!”

“It doesn’t hurt,” Dirk lied. It had hurt, he just didn’t really care about that shit. He’d spent his whole life hiding out in his apartment and researching atrocities. A little pain was a welcome distraction, frankly, as long as he was in control of it.

“I can’t say I really believe that.” Jake made a small, aborted movement with his hand, like he wanted to reach up and touch Dirk’s tattoo but thought better of it. Dirk just barely managed to keep the frustration off his face, but he curled his fingers into the dirt.

To show Jake what he was missing, Dirk reached his own hand up, reaching across his chest and running a thumb over Hella Jeff. Good old Jeff was his constant companion. Much more reliable than Jake fucking English. “It swells at first,” Dirk said. “That’s normal, I read about it. It swells up, but you just have to keep it clean and moisturized and it’ll heal in a week or two.”

“You really think this is the best time and place for a little man-bro tattoo action? How am I supposed to keep it clean in the heat of battle?”

“Don’t see any better times or places lining up for us.”

“Hmmm.” Jake tipped his head to one side, studying Dirk’s face. Dirk knew that he did that because he couldn’t read it, because of Dirk’s shades, but Jake scrutinizing him like that still made him feel stupidly exposed. “What would you use to do it?”

Dirk had some shit he’d captchalogued specifically for this purpose, but he wasn’t going to say that. Didn’t want Jake to think this was premeditated, even though it was. Although in his head he tattooed Jake after some vigorous sex, and not as a gambit to grope up Jake’s hot arm flesh. “I could pull some stuff together. It doesn’t take much.”

“Where?”

“What do you mean? We’d just do it here.”

“No, no, where on my body?”

“Oh.” Um. _Tell him it has to be the butt,_ AR snickered. Dirk blocked him. “Anywhere you want, I guess.”

“I can’t pretend I haven’t been admiring your handiwork,” Jake said. “Having that tattoo just adds a hint of extra badass to your monster-slaying endeavors! You’re like an action hero.”

“Jake.” Dirk didn’t want to keep having to tell him how uncool he was being, but Jake was making it hard.

Jake seemed to come to a decision. “Okay,” he said firmly. “Why not? Let’s do it. It’ll be like those brotherhood rituals they do in movies. You know, like where they cut their fingers and mix their blood together? Except instead we’ll have tattoos.”

“Sure,” Dirk said, his heartbeat suddenly kicking up to eleven. Oh god, this was it, he was going to touch Jake. He was going to have his fingers on Jake’s skin and okay, okay, he had to be cool about this. _Don’t cream your pants before you even get the needle out_ flashed up in red behind his shades. _I fucking blocked you,_ Dirk thought at him, but he didn’t particularly want to go through the merry-go-round right now of AR telling him he could get around Dirk’s technology because he was Dirk and Dirk saying he knew and AR saying he knew Dirk knew. He took off the shades and placed them, folded, on the ground. He’d have to be able to see well to do this anyway.

“Should I lie down?” Jake said. He swallowed, and Dirk thought he could see nerves in the way he held his shoulders.

“Why would you do that?” Dirk said. “Take off your vest, maybe. So I can get at your shoulder better.”

“Okay.” Jake slid it off his shoulders, leaving just his grey skull tank top. Dirk could see goosebumps on his arms. LOMAX got chilly at night.

“Um, bro,” Jake said, and there was a definite hint of nerves in his voice. “It really doesn’t hurt?”

Well, he was going to find out soon enough. “A little,” Dirk said. “But nothing someone like you couldn’t handle.”

“Oh. Okay.” He didn’t sound very reassured. Jake watched Dirk grab a needle, thread and ink from his sylladex. He kept his shit sterilized at home, but it couldn’t hurt to do it again. He decaptchalogued his rocket board too and handed it to Jake upside down. “Hold this.”

Jake took it, his hands gripping the board nowhere near Dirk’s. Jesus, whatever this weird no-touching thing that had built up between them was, it needed to stop. Dirk refused to give a tattoo from an arm’s length away. Dirk switched the board on to its lowest setting, so that blue flame was just barely flickering out from the end facing up, and passed the needle slowly through the flame. That done, he picked up a short stick from the LOMAX earth and started to lash the needle to it with the thread. Jake watched him in silence. Dirk wondered if he was having second thoughts, but the fact that he hadn’t spoken up yet meant he was determined to see it through. Dirk wrapped the thread around the needle carefully, more slowly than strictly necessary. He was stalling. He wanted to touch Jake more than anything else, but now that it was about to happen he worried that it would be too much and too little at once, that touching Jake’s arm to ink him would just make it harder to lie so close to him at night and not be able to touch.

Finally, he straightened up. “Okay,” he said. “Do you have a pen?”

“Think so,” Jake said, and after rummaging around in his disorganized sylladex for a couple seconds, handed it to him.

“Okay,” Dirk said again. He wished he hadn’t taken off his shades so soon, partially because he needed all the cool he could muster right now, and partially because he thought it might actually calm him down to have AR making fun of him. AR would tell him that his feelings were the weakness of a biologically-based organism, and that Dirk was more machine than man. His heart was pounding so hard he could feel it in his chest—was that normal? Was that supposed to be happening? What if he passed out just from touching Jake’s arm?

“I have to draw it on first,” he said. Stupid, Jake probably knew that already. This wasn’t going to get any less awkward or weird. It was no big deal, Dirk could just reach out and grab his arm, it wasn’t like they’d just spent a month passive-aggressively avoiding physical contact or anything like that. It wasn’t like he’d been dreaming about touching Jake for years. Calm the _fuck_ down, Dirk, don’t freak him out.

“Go for it, mate,” Jake said. “I’m ready.”

Dirk reached out and slid his hand under Jake’s bicep, gripping loosely. Oh god, his skin was warmer than Dirk expected, and a little coarse from all the harsh weather exposure. Dirk could feel his own pulse beating in his fingertips on Jake’s skin, and he struggled to keep his breathing at an even pace, to not betray himself. He raised the pen to Jake’s arm, grateful that his hands were as steady as ever. If he couldn’t do the bro thing and stick a needle in his friend’s arm just because he got the trembling vapors at his touch, he’d have to throw himself into the xenon canyons.

“I guess you’ve drawn these fine gentlemen a lot, huh,” Jake said, huffing out a little nervous breath as Dirk traced the first few lines on his skin. He tapped his fingers idly where they were resting on his knee. “You know, I admire you, Strider. You grew up as alone as me but you spent your time figuring out how to do all this cool shit! I just shot some monsters and acquired the finest film education known to man.”

“I actually might believe that you have the best film education of anyone in the Incipisphere right now,” Dirk said. “Most comprehensive, at least.” He narrowed his eyes, trying to focus on dotting Sweet Bro’s beard, not on the warmth radiating from Jake’s arm. Dirk’s entire palm was pressed against Jake’s bicep now as he held it in place, and he couldn’t help noticing the tightness of the muscle. His throat was closing up with something like panic, although he was pretty sure this was the highlight of his life to date. God, he was going to get hard just from touching Jake’s skin, and it would be embarrassing if it wasn’t also incredibly predictable. Later when Jake fell asleep, he could crawl a little ways away and jerk off with his shades on, while AR told him what a pathetic asshole he was.

“There,” he said. Fuck, he didn’t want to let go. He should have offered to draw something more complicated. He dropped Jake’s arm reluctantly, and reached for the stick/needle set-up he’d jury-rigged. He could use a second to recover before the next round of extended touching. It was fine, Dirk’s pulse was only about twenty times faster than usual, that was all. “Last chance to back out, bro. Final answer. You ready to ratchet this bro-ship to the next level with some sweet complementary ink?”

“Never been more ready,” Jake said. His jaw was set, and his eyes were on Dirk’s face. Yeah, okay, this might have been a really bad idea. Giving himself the tat had hurt a lot, and this wasn’t even Jake’s idea, and when Jane saw it she was going to freak out. And also this was going to take a while if Dirk wanted it to look halfway decent, or at least shitty in the way that Sweet Bro was supposed to look shitty, and not shitty like wow that’s a bad tattoo. He was going to get two pokes in and realize that permanent, painful body modification was not the best way to get close to your crush.

Too late now. Dirk shook off the hesitation, and carefully dipped the tip of the sterilized needle in the ink.

He grabbed Jake’s arm again, warmth blooming in his chest at the feeling of Jake’s skin pressed against his palm. It was like touching two wires together and watching a robot’s eyes flicker to life. Jake swallowed hard, Dirk could see his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. “Okay,” Dirk said, mostly to ground himself. “Here goes.” He gripped Jake’s bicep a little harder. Fuck, that felt good. He could probably jerk off for the next two weeks on nothing but the sense memory of Jake’s skin right now.

He carefully stuck in the tip of the needle. Jake winced a little, and Dirk heard his breath go uneven, but that was it. Okay. They’d survived. Dirk dipped the needle again, and started to work on the tattoo in earnest. The third poke drew blood and Dirk wiped it away with his thumb, his heart skipping dangerously at the extra brush of skin. He was struck by the overpowering urge to suck the blood off his thumb, but that would most definitely push this from bro time into weird, so he ignored it. But god, how could he simultaneously feel that he never wanted anyone to hurt Jake, and also that he was doing something possessive by hurting him? Because that was how it felt, like Jake letting Dirk hurt him was the ultimate test for whatever had been happening between them for the past month, whatever this supposed friendship was that curled up in the spaces between Dirk’s ribs and slowly crushed him from the inside out. It was better than a kiss. Dirk tightened his grip and tried to narrow his focus to the tattoo, to block out the distraction of Jake’s warm living _human_ body right there next to him, breathing and shivering and making the occasional pained noise.

About halfway through, Jake exhaled loudly and said, “Okay, hang on, I need a break.” Dirk dropped his hand, and Jake made a move like he wanted to grab his own arm, before hovering his hand above it anxiously. “It—looks good so far,” he said. His voice was a little weak. Dirk sympathized. All that sharp pain concentrated in one area could be intense.

“We don’t have to finish tonight if you don’t want,” Dirk said, but Jake shook his head vigorously.

“I want to! We can’t half-ass this bro ritual, Strider. A fully double-cheeked bottom must be present. Tonight.”

“If you still have enough presence of mind to be a total fucking dork it can’t hurt that bad,” Dirk said. His fingers were itching with the desire to touch Jake again. Shit, shit, this was what he was afraid of, that once he’d had it he couldn’t go back to this shitty invisible wall between them. Dirk wanted to press Jake into the dirt right now and just lie on top of him, not even sexually, just to feel Jake’s body against his. Fuck, he really, really wanted that. Goddammit.

“I think you will find I can be a total fucking dork in even the most trying of circumstances!” Jake said. “Alright, breather achieved. Get back in here and keep tattooing, buster.”

Yes. Dirk grabbed at Jake again, maybe a little too fast, sliding his hand up his arm from elbow to armpit. Jake gasped, and for a second Dirk worried that he’d brushed the raw skin, until Jake said, “That wasn’t an invitation to fucking tickle me!”

“Sorry,” Dirk said, not meaning it. He raised the needle again, and the slight twitch in the muscle under his palm told him that Jake was bracing himself. “Relax,” he said, rubbing Jake’s arm a little. Okay, it was a shameless excuse for more contact. Whatever, he didn’t really give a shit. He was actually hard now, which was frankly idiotic.

“Maybe we could chit-chat a little,” Jake said, and then made a tiny noise high up in his nasal tract as Dirk plunged the needle back in. He took a beat to collect himself, and then continued. “You know, just as a distraction. That’s what my grandma used to do when she was giving me shots.”

What the fuck. “Your grandma gave you shots?” Dirk said. Sometimes Jake would say something off-hand like it was normal, when it was really because he grew up as a character in a Rudyard Kipling story.

“You know. Inoculations. Malaria and that. Ow.” Jake laughed a little, his voice coming out breathier than usual. “I must say that when you said this didn’t hurt I feel you might have been misleading me a little. Just a tad. I would not hire you as my tour guide to the land of being completely without pain, is what I mean.”

By all rights the sound of Jake babbling should be dampening Dirk’s erection, but it was having the opposite effect. Now he was really glad that he’d taken his shades off, because as much as AR knew already about the inner workings of Dirk’s mind, some things were still just too fucking embarrassing.

“Fuck you, I’d be the best tour guide,” Dirk said. He was doing Sweet Bro’s mouth now, which was dark, so it required a lot of pricks close together. He could hear the increased roughness in Jake’s breathing, and he refused to acknowledge that it was only turning him on more, because that was fucking creepy. “I’d keep you safe and sound, all steering you away from sharp rocks and towards the hidden anesthetic waterfalls.”

“That sounds nice,” Jake said. He swallowed again. Dirk could hear it, Jesus, he could actually hear Jake’s throat work. “Did Sawtooth ever report back to you on your land, by the way? I thought you said he was doing recon for us.”

“Not yet,” Dirk said. It was a lie, but Jake didn’t need to know yet that Dirk’s land sounded like the deepest pit of hell. The screenshots Sawtooth had sent him were not promising.

Jake was bleeding again. Dirk tried to wipe the blood away so he could see what he was doing, but it just smeared it across the rest of the ink. Fuck it. Dirk licked his thumb and rubbed at the blood with his saliva. The metallic tang hit his tongue and he rolled it around in his mouth, feeling a little weak. Fuck. He wanted to devour Jake. He didn’t know if he wanted to fuck him or hurt him or hold him or somehow all of it at once.

“That stings,” Jake said, his voice tight.

“Wait until I clean it when I’m done, that’ll sting way more,” Dirk said. He was on the beard now, which was the final touch. He didn’t want this to end, so he slowed down a little, placing each dot more carefully.

“Egad,” Jake said, more nervous laughter bubbling up. “I can’t believe I’m going to have this on my arm for the rest of my life.”

“It’ll be like your very own shitty souvenir,” Dirk said. “From LOMAX, with love. There.” He placed the final dot. “You’re done.” 

He lowered the needle, but he didn’t let go of Jake’s arm. Jake didn’t move.

“Oh,” Jake said. “That wasn’t so bad.”

Dirk snorted. “Fuckin’ liar,” he said.

“Okay yes actually it was supremely fucking painful,” Jake said, his voice a little choked. “Christ on a cracker, Dirk, you could have warned me.”

“I said you could handle it, and you handled it,” Dirk said, wondering when either of them was going to comment on the fact that he still hadn’t let go. He didn’t know when he was next going to get the chance to touch Jake, and he wanted to hold on as long as possible.

“I can’t believe you did that to yourself when we were fourteen,” Jake said. “You’re nuts, Strider, you know that?”

“Been told,” Dirk said. Jake closed his eyes and slumped forward a little, his body moving further into Dirk’s space. He seemed to be catching his breath, and the thought struck Dirk that this might be what Jake looked like coming down from an orgasm. Not a good thought right now, not when he still had to clean and bandage Jake’s arm and wait for Jake to somehow fall asleep through the pain before he could do anything about his still-present erection.

Slowly, one millimeter at a time, his pulse pounding hard in his temples, Dirk turned his hand over and let it slip from Jake’s arm to his side. He held his breath momentarily, exhaling when Jake leaned into the touch, his eyes still closed. Jake’s body was shaking hard, little tremors running up through Dirk’s fingertips.

“You okay?” Dirk said.

“Just the adrenaline,” Jake said. “It feels kinda good.”

Of course. Of course Jake would be the only person as much of an adrenaline junkie as Dirk. That was what all the monster-fighting was about, wasn’t it? Sure, Dirk knew Jake had killed those things on his island as a matter of survival, but he’d seen the way Jake went after the underlings on LOMAX, there was no way he had to do it with so much dramatic flair. No one really needed a pistol in each hand.

Dirk pressed his hand more firmly to Jake’s side, growing bolder. Jake shivered against him and leaned forward more, letting his forehead press against Dirk’s, another searing point of contact. Oh god, Dirk’s skin was burning up where Jake’s was touching his, he felt like he might die if Jake moved away. Don’t say anything, Jake, Dirk thought at him silently, don’t ruin this, please, please.

“Dirk,” Jake mumbled, and then he tilted his head and pressed his chapped lips to Dirk’s.

Did it count as a kiss if the person was maybe drunk on a pain high? Did Jake mean to kiss him, even, or did he just kind of fall against Dirk’s lips? Dirk couldn’t even process it, couldn’t think of anything except the warm, dry feeling of Jake’s mouth against his. He was certifiably freaking out, every single alarm in his brain going off on full red fucking alert. _Jake English is kissing you abort all mental processes abort abort._

Jake pulled back, opening his eyes and sitting back on his heels. “Oops,” he said, and laughed again. Dirk was actually going to fucking kill him. 

He opened his mouth to say something like “what the fuck” or “do that again right now” or “I want your skin to be touching mine every second of the day,” but instead he just said, “I have to clean it. Sorry. It’ll hurt but it’s important.”

“Okay,” Jake said amiably, like he didn’t just have his fucking mouth on Dirk. Dirk couldn’t remember feeling so overwhelmed in his life, like his insides were screaming.

His own fingers were trembling slightly as he swabbed down Jake’s arm with disinfectant. Thank god that particular physical response had held off until he was done sticking a tattoo needle into Jake’s skin. The disinfectant clearly aggravated the pain—Dirk could see Jake’s eyes water—but Jake was silent throughout, letting Dirk bandage him up.

When Dirk was done, Jake reached up and curled a fist into Dirk’s hair. What the fuck. Jake needed to give him some advance fucking warning before touching him any more or he was going to die of his heart spontaneously combusting in his chest. He tried to steady his breathing, forcing himself to look up into Jake’s eyes.

He wanted Jake to kiss him again, but instead Jake brought up his other hand and rested his fingertips lightly against Dirk’s cheekbones. Dirk almost moaned at how it felt, at how good to was just to have another human being touch his skin. He could never recreate this with a robot.

Jake had apparently decided this was Dirk-touching fun time hour, because he started to lightly explore Dirk’s face with his fingertips, like he was a fucking blind kid trying to map out Dirk’s features. He ran his fingers down the bridge of Dirk’s nose, tugged at his earlobe, pressed two fingers against Dirk’s temple to feel his pulse. It was the most intimate thing Dirk could imagine, somehow even more than if Jake had reached for his dick. Dirk tried to keep his face blank and just let him, let Jake English run his hands over Dirk’s bare skin like he’d won the human touch lottery.

Jake pulled his hand back, and Dirk grabbed his wrist and brought his palm back to Dirk’s cheek. “Don’t stop,” he said shortly. Jake curled his fingertips against Dirk’s cheek, and then before Dirk could do anything he was moving forward on his knees. Jake pressed their bodies together, his chest to Dirk’s chest, the top of his non-inked shoulder bumping against Dirk’s. He was holding his other shoulder back gingerly. His hair brushed against Dirk’s cheek.

It was the weirdest thing, like a hug with no arms. Jake’s body was hot, not just warm but actually hot like he had his own little uranium core burning away in there, and Dirk could feel the rise and fall of Jake’s chest with his breath. He could feel the heat of Jake’s skin through the two layers of cloth between them. Dirk’s heart was beating in his throat. He never, ever wanted Jake to move.

Jake stayed there for what seemed like forever, long enough that Dirk acclimated to Jake’s body heat, so that the cold air on his sides where Jake wasn’t pressed against him was giving him chills down his spine. Eventually, just as Dirk’s foot was starting to fall asleep from sitting on it, Jake let out a huge yawn. He laughed and pulled back.

“I guess we should probably get some sleep!” Jake said.

Sure, Jake, Dirk thought, that’s cool. You can just not touch me for an entire fucking month and then touch me all over and then go to sleep. I wasn’t using the part of my brain that thinks rationally anyway. He rocked back and pushed himself onto his feet before he could go any crazier. Shit, his legs were stiff. “Yeah,” he said. “Don’t want you falling asleep on me tomorrow when a skeleton monster is all coming to get us.”

“Like you couldn’t handle one shitty monster yourself,” Jake said.

They finished setting up their camp in silence, laying out blankets and the SBAHJ plush piles that they used for pillows. Jake was yawning and stretching more than seemed strictly necessary to Dirk, like maybe it was partially for show. They lay down, and Dirk prepared himself for another long night of lying awake and waiting for Jake to wake up in the morning.

After a minute, he heard shuffling behind him, and then the feeling of Jake’s arm wrapping around his chest and pulling him in. God. Dirk was starting to think Jake was intentionally fucking with him. You gave that kid one little tattoo and he was all over you like touching was a thing that had just been invented.

Jake’s heart beat against Dirk’s shoulder blade, his knee pressing into the back of Dirk’s thigh. It was a good thing Dirk didn’t sleep, because he would never be able to like this. Something small and hot was smoldering in him, something lit up by the feel of Jake’s body.

“G’night, bro,” Dirk said. Jake just mumbled something, pretending like he was already losing consciousness and no longer had control over where his limbs were grabbing. Fucking idiot probably learned this ace move from Adam Sandler or something.

Dirk shifted back against him, feeling warmer than he ever had in his life. 

Jake was an idiot, and Dirk was so fucked.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Inkstick (the Give My Bones Remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/716486) by [feralphoenix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/feralphoenix/pseuds/feralphoenix)




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